Quoted By:
<span class="mu-i">The warehouse interior is a hothouse, faint pops of things cooking off. The shadows waver, banished by the glorious brightness of sunlight subsuming into normal fire and flame.
Something... drags at Circus feet, pointing onwards, downwards, to colder basement where the shadows are more cloying. Sparks leap. The light sputters and dies, but Circus knows (somehow, without quite know how) that this is a ... rarer trick.
The Sun eats shadows.
Never the other way around, for all the shadows might wish it so.</span>
>MASK PHASE
<span class="mu-s">Slips Sensibility</span>
<span class="mu-b"> I think we're about... done here. Let's pack it up and get. Any last stragglers, finish up.
I'm out.</span>
